


CinderSolo

by JadedWarrior



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Massage, Massage Therapist Kylo, Modern Era, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Semi-Public Sex, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, fairytale retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedWarrior/pseuds/JadedWarrior
Summary: She trusts his skills, and pays him for his time. He’s a professional, beneath her. Not one of the suitors she must choose at midnight at the ball.He has been touching her for nearly a year. Despite his needs, he must remain withdrawn, easing her aches and pains and never noticing the way her skin glows in the waning light.Clinical. Distant. When she asks for more, a taste of something only he can give her, Kylo Ren knows she wants him, not his bloodline, not his name.But when a commoner loses a fancy red-soled shoe running from a Princess, she must decide if she wants prince or man.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 41
Kudos: 162
Collections: Reylo Smutember 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Prompt for Smuttember: Try new Things!  
> Thank you to AuroraReylo for the beta!
> 
> CW//: Mention of past auto accident. Touch Sensitivity.

She preferred strawberry scented oil. At this point, any time Kylo thought of strawberries, he couldn’t help but sport a raging hard-on.

Which was exactly the situation now, luckily (hopefully) hidden by the towel he casually held against his lower abs. Although the towel was meant for his hands and not for wiping himself after they finished up their sessions.

“Mr. Ren. Thank you for coming.”

“Ms. Palpatine.” He couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t handle such radiance as she descended down the grand curved stairs into the foyer. When she got to the last step, he caught a glimpse of sapphire silk - the robe she always wore for their sessions, the color matching that on her elegant and dainty feet.

And if he happened to obtain a sapphire and diamond inlaid bottle with the hope of giving that to her one day,he certainly didn’t need to disclose that.

Just as he needed to remain professional and not let his heart leap at the sight of her after several weeks.

She wasn’t his only client.

He needed to maintain a healthy distance.

She trusted him—after how many months?—to help and heal her aches.

His damned body didn’t seem to get the memo.

“I hope your trip was a success?”

Polite and non-essential small talk. Nothing to make her aware of the blood pooling down below, at the way the sight of her filled him with both elation and melancholy.

As she made her way past him into the solarium, he forced himself to take a cleansing breath and focus on her gait. Professional interest of course, only to assuage if she had hurt herself again and where she needed him to focus. Sometimes it was a simple case of working out too hard and her beautiful lithe body needed to flush out the lactic acid. Sometimes she did something reckless (more often in the last six months) and promised to never ride horses/sky dive/try mountain climbing as she lay boneless under his hands.

Sometimes the injuries from the accident that killed hers parents reared up on rainy days and those were the sessions he could barely stand because her light would dim as she lay silent on the table, his to touch but never to console.

She didn’t appear stiff this time, although one couldn’t say the same about his cock.

Damn them both, he missed her.

“My trip... I wouldn’t call it a success, exactly. Investors. Meetings. Spreadsheets.”

That self deprecating smile ruined him for anybody else.Now that he risked looking at those delicate features, he could see color on her cheeks. Same color as when he first came into this penthouse apartment, same color when several months later she suggested that maybe was ready to try for direct contact with his hands on her without the barrier of the sheet.

“I’m... I’m getting married.”

Of all the things she could’ve said, he did’t expect this one. Because KiraRey Palpatine, heiress to Palpatine Media and fortune, director and board president of several high profile non-profits, had a strong sensitivity to touch.

Then again, in her circles, touching and marriage didn’t need to coexist as long as money and clout kept flowing.

“Congratulations,” he finally managed, mostly because some sort of an reply would be expected. As his client, as someone who trusted him, she certainly didn’t need to know she might as well have stabbed a blade into his heart.

“Yes, well...” She trailed off. “My grandfather insists and.. It makes sense I suppose. I do need have the stability and strong support when...” She trailed off again, but he could finish the thought. If and when the old fart finally died off, she’d need a strong foundation at her back to run his empire.

“To capitalize on ratings, tomorrow I’m to host a soirée where I’ll choose the suitors. Lost of cameras, publicity. Nobody knows the back room deals of course, but anything to put up a good show.”

Another words, the old fucker was ripping off another network and using his own flesh and blood for profit.

Since he wasn’t supposed to comment, Kylo kept silent.

“Since we’ve.... well, since we’ve established a fairly strong rapport, I thought maybe you could help me.”

And since the delicate flush on her cheeks deepened, to the point where he wondered...

No.

Even as disbelief warred with arousal, so did his anger. Was he that disposable that she’d ask him him to fuck her? Simply because he was the only one whose touch she didn’t mind? Break her in, so to speak, before sending her on her merry way to pick a nice society husband?

The irony of that cut to his bones.

“I’ve upset you, I’m so sorry.”

Upset wasn’t... quite the right word, but sure, he’d take it. Mutely he followed her into the sunlit space where he sat up his table, the sheets and towels like black holes under the waning rays of light.

He always tried to schedule her as his last appointment. It seemed like the right thing to do, considering he had to ease himself several times after their hour and half was up.

“Ms. Palpatine, if you’re suggesting I have sex with you—“

“Goodness no. I’m so sorry if I led you to believe that.” She spoke so quickly, he thought that was exactly what she was suggesting and now was backing off.

His damned cock all but threatened to break through his trousers.

“I apologize Mr. Ren. You’re always so intuitive to my needs that I honestly hoped you’d understand without me having to spell it out.“ She took a breath, her robe a brilliant burst of sky over her lithe frame. The dark hair she always tied into three buns for their sessions shone with the sunset, the escaped tendrils caressing that delicate neck.

He always wondered if she’d taste like the strawberries.

“Ms. Palpatine.” He had to keep her trust, and with it, his own distance. “The intimacy between client and professional in these types of situations can easily be misconstrued. I’m truly honored you trust me enough to help you. But—“

“I’ll pay you.”

He flinched at that, the irony a punch into his gut. “I’m not an escort nor a sugar baby.”

“Of course not, I’m so sorry.” Clearly nervous, she paced around the table, the waning New York sun guilding her skin. “I’m not asking you to.. to.. have sex. With me. That’s not... ”

She might as well have asked him to fuck her right there on the table, because his cock all but wept precome in his pants.The fury roiling from him kept him from saying another word, mostly because he clenched his jaw so tight so not to risk the famous Solo temper.

But she, the soft spoken lady who took months to feel comfortable enough for him to touch, straightened those slim shoulders and looked him square in the eyes. “Let’s just say I’m asking for additional time and services.”

“And such services would be?”

He dared her to spit it out.

He didn’t expect the words she would say next.

“I’d like you to massage my labia to orgasm.”

***

Rey still didn’t know what possessed her. But the idea of being _auctioned off_ has been giving her panic attacks since Grandfather announced it the last night. Not privately of course. Not open for discussion. Just a decision that had been already made, informing everyone—including her—at the annual investors retreat for the company.

Suitors with expectations of marriage.

Someone who would have every reason to touch her. Someone who would expect her to touch them. And regardless of how discreet things were in her circle, the gossip wheels would love hearing how Sheeve’s granddaughter was still so traumatized she coudln’t handle being with a man.

The text to Kylo had been an impulse, a knee jerk reaction. And now, he probably was not only scandalized, but also fearful of losing his license and his income source.

“This will be completely discreet of course,” she hastened to say, and tried to give herself that same stance she used in the board room. She never could pull off the resting bitch face, but candor combined with impeccable manners have become her trademark approach. “I realize this is an imposition, both on your personal and professional limits. You should expect adequate compensation for both.”

“I..” He cleared his throat and stared at her as if she had just asked him to bend her over the massage table. “I see.”

Candor and impeccable manners. Always the right approach.“I do remember you mentioning this was a way to pay for law school. Surely a full year tuition would make you consider this proposal?”

He opened and closed his mouth, potentially biting back something filthy and remembering his place.

“I assure you,” she kept her voice clear and calm, “I have no expectations beyond a clinical release. Nothing much different then what we’ve already established.”

And she really did not have expectations. Someone as beautiful as he would have no interest in her beyond professional. Unfailingly kind? Yes. Always attuned to her body’s needs? Absolutely, this is what made him so good at what he did. Often, she wondered why he had chosen law when he had so much talent and passion forSports Medicine.

This blurred the lines, Rey understood that. Yet despite her misgivings, despite how wrong this had to be, maybe for once, she deserved to be selfish. Maybe for once, she deserved to feel, to satisfy the heat clawing her body after their sessions.

To know what it was really like to feel those magical hands caress the most private parts of her, the parts she never thought she’d allow, much actually yearn for another person to touch.

His eyes, usually so soft, studied her from the lengthening shadows. And just as her pulse sped up, just as she cursed herself for being an idiot and ruining the only relationship—albeit obviously clinical—where she could at least have basic human contact, those full lips parted.

“Fine,” he spat, as if she proposed something vile. “But you’re not paying me.”

“Mr Ren, I couldn’t possibly—“

“Take it or leave it.”

Pride? She could respect that. And an anonymous donation made to his university account could spare both their self-respect.

And so, Rey nodded, her posture demure. Impeccable manners dictated one never gloated over a won battle. Instead, she started to untie her robe. “I’m ready to begin.”

The silence stretched, taught and full of words neither of them spoke, before he finally nodded. Then with a snap of his wrist, the top sheet unfurled to hang down his frame, waiting to cover her as she untied her robe and laid down on the table.

And felt like an idiot having just asked for what she has been fantasizing of for months and still wearing the sky blue set of her bandeau and panties.

Nothing ventured...

She wondered what his sheets smelled like. Not these, but the ones he slept in. The oil he used smelled heavenly, but she often found herself wondering about his natural scent.

“Are there any specific areas you’d like for me to focus?”

Large hands on her lower back, warming her over the sheet.

She nearly twisted to look up at him and ask if just blanked out their entire conversation. Or maybe he simply chose to ignore it and that was for the best.

“Lower back, as always ,” she murmured, and tried not to focus on thecoiling heat between her thighs.

After nearly a year, Kylo knew exactly what she liked—another reason she concocted this crazy idea. He never felt the need to fill the silence, and once the initial tension would settle down from the relaxation his touch brought her, she usually drifted in the bliss, this hour and a half a decadent indulgence of her senses.

This time, the pleasure of his warm palm on her back—still over a sheet because he always started slow to build her tolerance—had an edge of something deeper, an anticipation she stupidly brought upon herself.

Since she (surprisingly) preferred a firmer touch which he delivered in companionable silence during their sessions, Rey once again wondered what type of lover he would be.

Would he fuck in silence? Would he whisper encouragements? Press filthy words into her skin?

Palms on her shoulder blades, inching up to where the sheet covered her neck.

“Try to relax,” he said in that hushed velvet voice, and Rey couldn’t help but shiver.

Relax, that was the point. She needed to relax, this was one of the precious moments she allowed herself between work and meetings and follow ups and social gatherings, the last leavingher more exhausted then the rest.

When firm fingers pressed atthe parallel places at the top of her spine she couldn’t help but let out a small huff of pleasure, the groan somehow obscenely loud in her ears despite logic telling her that wasn’t the case.

With his touch pressing into the muscles just below neck—still over the sheet—she wondered if she had to maintain that same silence if did move forward with their arrangement. Or maybe, he would find it distasteful if she couldn’t contain herself.

She never did contain herself imagining him above her while playing with her toys. Because despite her.. what has been termed unease at contact with another, she did enjoy a collection of sexual devices, acquired and shipped to one Rey Johnson. In the safety of her bedroom, she sometimes got lost in her fantasies and got a bit carried away.

“You’re more tense then usual,” he murmured and pressed the blades of those warm hands right where her neck became her shoulders, the pressure shy of hurting, exactly as she liked.

And since this obviously would be another session like the others, Rey figured she might as well enjoy his touch and bunched the sheet into her fingers to tug the fabric down. Her cue that she was ready for skin to skin.

Warm palms, slick fragrant oil.

Silence.

He didn’t move his hands, just like before, when she built enough tolerance to move the sheet and feel. “Take as long as you need,” he always said, and those first few times, the entire session had been spent with those warm hands simply resting over her back.

In the months that had followed, she surprised both of them at how much more contact she could take. Crave, even.

The heat of him radiated through her body, the pressure steadily increasing before he pushed his palms downward, once again relieving the tension at the base of her spine.

“If I may make a suggestion?” Like his hands, his voice caressed her, and she wished he leaned closer so she could feel his breath ghost on her skin.

“Of course,” she finally managed through a throat that’s suddenly gone dry.

“We should proceed to what you asked before the rest. If you still wish, of course. If I’m not mistaken, you’re more tight then usual and this will both relieve the tension, and provide the additional benefit of relaxing you further for me to go deeper.”

Did he just mean...?

“Deep tissue,” he added, and was that wry amusement in that caress of a voice?

“Sounds like a well thought out strategy,” Rey finally managed and wondered what was coming next. Would he just go for it? Slid off the sheet and—

Palms on her rear, over the sheet. Nothing they haven’t done before. Maybe a slight tremble, but she probably was shaking. Nothing inappropriate, nothing outside the realm of professional therapy.

“We can stop any time you like,” he said and Rey could only nod again, her throatdry, belly tight and aching.

The heels of those beautiful hands pressed into her glutes. “I’m going to keep the sheet over you if that’s all right.”

“Of course.” Clinical. He didn’t need to see to touch there. And Rey didn’t dwell on the slight bite of hurt.

A rustle of fabric over her skin nearly had her jumping, but he bunched up the sheet to free one of her thighs, exactly as he’d done before in other sessions.

Nothing new here. She was used this now, used to his hands on her. Except, this time, every subtle motion of his hands filled her with nervous, almost sick, anticipation.

“You’ll need to communicate with me.” Did his voice change? Was it rougher now? Lower? “Same as before. Pressure. Speed. Rhythm. Your level of comfort. How... deep,” he paused at that word, and gods, Rey clenched her fluttering walls around the emptiness, “you would like me to go.”

“You understand?”

She nodded, but then since he probably couldn’t see, she added in a voice she hoped didn’t come off as breathy. “Of course, Mr. Ren.”

“I think at this point you can call me Kylo.”

She should’ve offered him her name as well. She’s always wanted to hear that, her name on his lips. But distance needed to be maintained, not for decorum, not for manners, but for her own stupid emotions to be kept in check.

Warm, increasing pressure on her glutes, heels of his hands pushing into the muscles and sliding lower, digging into the place where her buttocks flowed into her thighs. Slow circling pressure, giving her every chance to relax into his touch, just like before. Except this wasn’t nearly the same and...

Did she need to do something? Give him some sort of verbal consent? Beyond moaning a rather inappropriate breathy ‘yes’ she wasn’t sure what the next move should be, and instead of beating a fist against this idiotic wall of uncertainty, she simply slid her thighs apart further.

The movement brought her in direct contact with...

Holy gods, was he hard?

A cough, a mere clearing of throat and whatever pressed against her bare thigh shifted away, and short of chasing him, she would never be sure if that was him or the oil bottle.

Had to be the oil bottle.

He had no interest in her beyond her needs as his client. And possibly, probably, the generous yet not inappropriately so tips.

“It’s all right,” came theinsultingly kind reply. “You may feel the need to move a bit. Please feel free.”

Had to be the oil bottle since he didn’t seem at all effected.

But at least Rey managed to spread her thighs a little more, giving him room to...

Touch.

Slow firm slide of his fingers down, pressing into more intimate spaces at her inner thighs, heat and pleasure fusing with anticipation.

A large palm remained on her covered buttocks, as if holding her steady, or giving her something to anchor to while the edge of his free hand glided over...

Her..

Lips.

Just that.

A light unhurried slide. He knew enough to simply rest there now, giving her time to adjust to the new sensations, for her brain to absorb the concept of a new touch in a safe space.

Several movements passed.

“Shall I continue?” Was his whispering? Or was that simply the pounding of blood inside her veins?

“Yes.” Please.

No other words were needed. With his large palm resting over the sheet covering her buttocks, he once again slid his hand over her nether lips, the pressure steady, warm. Comforting and arousing.

She hoped she wasn’t dripping on his hand.

Then again, one could always blame the oil.

More glides, up and down, the caress intimate and yet familiar, and once again she relaxed under his ministrations, allowed herself to float in this quiet bliss with the yearning just kept at bay.

And then..

She shifted.

Or he did.

She didn’t know what changed, who had been the agent of that change, but suddenly the slide of his hands got deeper, pressing between her nether lips, right over the bud she often stimulated herself to pleasure. And suddenly, the comfort had been burned away, replaced by coiling tension.

“I...”

“Shall I continue?”

“Yes.” Did she just moan?

Was that a groan or did he have trouble breathing?

But no, his breaths came steady in the lengthening silence, his body a large comforting presence somewhere above at her back, his palm a weight to anchor her once she would fall apart.

Again, he slid the edge of his palm over her, between her folds, sending sparks of electricity into her bloodstream. Rey kicked her thighs more open, hoping the wordless invitation was enough.

It was.

The next stroke slid down firmer, deeper, almost directly over her clitoris, grazing her her inner lips before pulling back up.

“How’s the pressure?”

Low, low voice. The hand over her rear kept her from falling off the table.

“Fine.”

A chuckle—was it strained? “You need to give me a bit more then that.”

“It’s... “He slid down again and this time nudged her entrance. “It’s gooooooood.” The word slid out in a rush of breath.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been talking. She’d sworn this would be clinical, and didn’t need to make him further uncombable with her uncontrolled moans.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s natural.”

He’d say things like those during their session. Rey moaned before, rarely of course, when he would find a sore spot in need of his healing hands. She had been embarrassed then as she was now.

More slick glides of his hand, a gentle fingertip circling her entrance. She wasn’t sure if she was this embarrassingly wet or if it was the result of the strawberry scented oil, but the sensations lapped at her with gentle waves, a steady rhythm of pleasure.

Then a single firm digit entered her, gliding against her slick walls, and she coudln’t help but let out a gasp.

“All right?”

Was that him breathing hard? No, had to be her imagination.

He seemed above her somehow, as if leaning over the table. Probably keeping the correct pressure on his hands.

“Yes,” she finally managed in a whisper. “Please.”

“Please what,” he whispered back, but then cleared his throat, as if shaking himself out of that fleeting moment.

Of course, he was a professional , and she, his client. Almost patient.

But she spread her thighs even further and wondered how to ask him to—

“Shall I continue?”

Gods please. “Yes.”

She didn’t need to ask. She didn’t need to explain how she could take more. She didn’t hold back a tiny gasp when he pressed into her, slow and steady, then out, then in again, this time sliding directly over her sensitive clit.

Rey barely held back a keen of protest when he stopped, the pressure on her pulsing bundle of nerves steady, as if he was letting her adjust to new sensations, to his touch. This time, she couldn’t contain herself, couldn’t stop from pushing up against the warm weight of his hand.

“Please,” she whispered and as if in reward, the strokes resumed, steady, rhythmic, so deeply satisfying and yet not nearly satisfying enough.

She coudln’t seem to keep still any longer. She couldn’t control her breaths, her gasps, her whispered moan.

Did did he just grip her butt? No, that wasn’t possible, he was simply keeping her steady for his motions. Did his breath hitch? No, that had to be her, unable to contain her herself.

Clinical, she told herself and tried get control. Clinical, she kept reminding herself and trembled, the quiet sounds of her slick almost as beautiful and filthy as if he’d be whispering encouragements into her ear.

Was he a whisperer?

“Let go,” he murmured. “I got you. Just let go.”

Two fingers sliding up and down her slick entrance, grazing the underside of her clit, his thumb sliding over that bundle of pleasure directly. Almost there, not enough...

“More, please.” Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, begging would be less embarrassing.

The pressure increased, as did the tempo, the slide of his hand a blur of sensation and heat, the direct stimulation of her clitoris feather light now in comparison to the slick hard strokes insideher. Harder, faster, the rhythm steady, building, tightening, until the sensations crashed over her in a wave of bliss, ripped her apart so she could fall to pieces as she shook and trembled.

She didn’t realize she moaned until the sound ended.

She didn’t realize she cried until she felt the wetness on her cheeks.

And through it all, Kylo was a comforting weight over her, the pressure of his fingers inside her relentless but once again not moving, letting her come down, let her feel as long as she needed to feel.

For a drawn out moment, the only sound in the room was both their breaths. Then her slight groan—from overstimulation or in protest, Rey honestly didn’t know—when he removed his hand.

“Good. You did good,” he said, and that was exactly what he used to say those first few months.

Then, as if nothing happened, Kylo continued the massage, strong fingers kneading into her thighs, then lower, over her shins, then to her feet.

She floated in this warm soft bliss, letting him finish with her feet, her hands, her arms. She always refused to lay her back, afraid to leave her face unguarded. Now, as she floated, a part of her felt relief that it wasn’t out of context to hide in the wedge shaped pillow cradling her head. Because maybe this was clinical to him, but to her? It meant everything.

She floated as she shadows deepened, warm and content under the sheet. She floated for eternity, until her phone broke into music and Rey jerked awake, realizing it was fully dark now and she still lay on the massage table, covered in a black silk sheet.

Ah yes, he murmured something about coming back tomorrow to get his table, telling her to rest. Did his hand trail over her arm to grip her fingers? Did he gather her hair into those magical warm hands?

At lest she had first non-self-induced-orgasm. With a long languid sigh, Rey rose up, still clutching his sheet around her, the fabric smelling like strawberries and something else. Was that his scent? Something.. leather? Woodsy?

Iin the forgiving darkness, Rey inhaled, drawing him in, indulging herself of one last moment before finally slipping on her robe and heading upstairs for her phone and that mile long to do list.

She made the money transfer while that scent of leather still teasing her skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to AuroraReylo for the beta!

Idiot. Lovesick fool.

And coward, Kylo added to the mental list of names he’s called himself since showing up in the grand ballroom, moving through throngs of glittering people. And since he didn’t wear the tux his mother—ecstatic at hisrequest to forward the invitation—had sent over, nobody paid him much attention. Unless of course, somebody needed a fresh drink.

For once at these types of affairs, amidst the sparkling lights from the chandlers, the velvet draped chairs, silk table linens and china inlaid with gold, Kylo moved freely.For once, despite his giant frame, nobody noticed, nor cared, about his presence, despite the irony of Naboo champagne being the drink of choice.

And damn it all, he wanted that. Which didn’t explain the way his pulse surged in elation hearing her voice call out his name.

“Kylo?” Then, “Mr. Ren?”

He nearly fumbled the tray of crystal flutes he’d snagged from an unsupecting waiter. And trembling from twisted emotions, dread and anticipation, arousal that couldn’t be slacked, and fury at seeing the notification of his “scholarship”, he turned, and quite simply, froze.

Froze because no words, no emotions could describe her, a vision in sapphire blue. Her skin glowed against the color, even if the freckles he had a minor obsession with had been hidden by both a transparent shawl around her upper arms and long silk gloves up to her elbows.

And because his cock was a bastard, he immediately conjured up a vision of those gloved hands wrapped around his length.

He barely righted the tray before the dropped that mofo. Wouldn’t that be a headline for society pages.

“Ms. Palpatine.”

Her gaze sweep all but swept over him, taking in the tux, the hair he pulled back to draw attention further from himself. Of course, his fucking dick immediately stood at attention, and Kylo only hoped she’d be oblivious just as she’s had been oblivious every other time.

Like the time he all but humped the fucking massage table while she lay there so sweetly satisfied.

“I didn’t realize you were one of the staff.”

For a moment, Kylo wanted to deny that. Instead, he permitted himself a small smile, as if he didn’t watch her fall apart so delicate and glorious under his hands.

“Champagne?”

Tiny lines marred her forehead, the only indication of emotion.

“Yes. Thank you.”

And this had been a bad idea because it got her to move closer to him, to reach her hand out—with those damned gloves on—to gift him with the closeness of her scent, strawberries of course.

He nearly made a fool of himself. He nearly set the tray down and told her everything, except—

“Kira dear.” Sheeve Palpatine took another glass from the tray, not sparing a glance or much less thank you. “I’m told you’re avoiding our suitors.”

Suitors.

And Rey, with her warm gaze, disappeared right before his eyes, leaving in place a perfect shell of cool collected features.

“Grandfather.” A small smile on those perfectly tinted lips. “A strategy of less appearance will only lead to better ratings, no?”

“Of course, of course my dear.” And the old man chuckled as he tucked her free hand into the crook of his arm, the heiress and the devoted guardian who raised her. And when those two exchanged a smile, the calculation identical in their eyes, Kylo realized he was no only a love sick fool, but also a complete idiot.

Because for all the sweetness, the open features, that warm laugh, KiraRey Palpatine was raised to be a shark.

Ruthless and cold and laser focused.

And despite those fleeting moments,this cool and perfect vision had to be the real her. The kind of woman who would choose her perspective husband under the glare of camera lights, all for better ratings.

“You.” And he was startled from his misery by Palpatine addressing him directly. “Set up the fire pits and heat lamps. Why do they always keep thesethings so cold?”

“Grandfather, that’s not his job—“

“He gets paid just the same.” A shrug, and a wave of bejeweled fingers in dismissal. “Come dear, I’m told someone from Chandrilla’s royal family has checked in with their code. Can you imagine the media frenzy?”

“Oh?” That tinkle of a laugh filled Kylo with dread. “Do we know anyone familiar with them tointroduce me?”

***

Rey danced.

Rey smiled.

Rey endured.

Like always.

That’s what you were supposed to do, endure, for the good of the family, for the responsibility to carry on something bigger then yourself.

Aware of the cameras—discreet of course,—Rey spoke of pointless things, charming things, things designed to make her appear exactly what she was: an heiress in need of a good husband.

Armitage’s cologne didn’t help the headache teasing her behind her eyes. The dancing? That had been expected. Get over it, she had been told, time and again, and so, Rey danced, the gloves written off as a fashion statement rather then... well.. in their circles, everyone went to therapy but nobody had issues.

“We all play the part, love,” Armie murmured and smoothly led her through the steps, confident in just how much money his father paid for a chance to court her, despite him being desperately in love.

Not with her, of course.

Nobody was in love with her.

Everyone wanted her money.

“You couldn’t tell your father no?” She said, grateful for this one chance of actual conversation, hidden under the guise of small talk as they waltzed.

“As if you could?”

A fair point. Because despite wanting Kylo with his distinct beautiful features, she was still here, choosing suitors. And fate no doubt laughed her, sending him here to serve drinks while she danced.

Kylo, with his gorgeous face of contrasting angles and beautiful lips, soft eyes and a scar that brought to mind a time so much more brutal. Kylo, who sometimes seemed more regal then any of the appropriately brought up potentials here on display. Kylo, who could probably bench press all of them combined, and wasn’t she an idiot to have such a visceral reaction to a man with _biceps_?

“Have you made your choice?” Armitage slipped back into his usual nasal tone, either because someone was near, or because like her, he couldn’t escape the weight of “heritage”, a heavy crown on his head..

“I...” A proper lady never stuttered. “I believe so. Grandfather asked to do a grand reveal at midnight.”

The thought nearly had her sighing, but Rey caught herself. What was the point? She’d only hurt herself thinking of him, wanting him to see her more then just a client.

Except..

Maybe it was for the best.She needed him to see her as someone with money, an heiress to an empire, far above his station. Not a pathetic woman desperately in love with him, with no stamina or guts to stand up to her grandfather who had insisted she needed a husband.

In this century.

Composure like a shroud over her shoulders, Rey nodded to Armie before moving along the lines of greeters,allies and enemies alike.

“Ms. Palpatine?”

She couldn’t place the elderly man, his patrician features unfamiliar, although his eyes seemed kind. And since the wall of guests all but closed in around her, she gave him a brilliant smile and moved closer. “Are you enjoying the party?”

His name, she needed his name.

He grinned, as if he knew exactly what had been thinking.“Andrew Ackbar, Dean of Chandrilla University. We haven’t met before,” he added, as if playfully calling her out. “I wanted to personally thank you for your generous donation.” At least he didn’t hold out his hand.

Under the guise of taking a sip of champagne, Rey raked her mind over her recent philonthropic projects. “You’ll have to forgive me, the excitement of this evening must’ve muddled my brain.”

This time, the smile turned quizzical. “The Touch the Stars Scholarship award? I received the notification this morning. Forgive for this rather unofficial thank you, I just had to take the opportunity. You’ll make some deserving young person extremely happy.”

The stars he mentioned burst inside her veins. “Of course,” she murmured, and prayed heat didn’t flood her cheeks. “You know my Grandfather and I consider education a priority.” And for once grateful for the guests clamoring for her attention, Rey murmured her excuses and slipped away, head spinning, anger brewing under the surface of a polite if somewhat distant host.

He... gave her payment away as a scholarship? And named it.. that?

And even as she danced again, even as she flirted and charmed her way through suitors, mortification mixed with fury became lava in her veins.

She knew herself. Knew herself well enough that if she didn’t purge some of that anger, she was bound to do something stupid. Like tell a suitor off, or worse, betray herself and her little “idiosyncrasies”. Grandfather wouldn’t stand for that, not in such public setting.

So Rey stepped outside, rushed through the firepits throwing magic shadows on the bushes, past the lit up flower beds, past the stones, and toward the eerie glow of crimson.

She slipped past velvet ropes indicating a restricted area, and understood why the hotel staff didn’t want guests there: the pool lights must’ve been malfunctioniing because the bulbs seemed to be stuck on red, emanating a deep almost blood colored glow that bounced off the water.

And on the other edge of the pool, his body silhouetted in the red, bare feet dangling over the edge, sat Kylo Ren.

She should’ve turned around and left. Her cheeks hurt from the smiling, her body stiff from having so many people close, so many people _touch_.

And more over, she _hurt_.

“Taking a break Mr Ren?” She moved around the pool, heels clipping on the stone-like pavement. “A man that gave away hundreds of thousands of dollars probably doesn’t worry about getting fired from a job.”

He stood, more like jerked to his feet, the crimson lights bathing both of them in ruby shadows.

“I told you, I didn’t want your money.” Quiet low voice, angry soft velvet.

“And I told you, you would be paid.”

“For my time. Not for... that.” The water rippled where he had dipped his feet. Beautiful feet, an intimacy she had been denied from seeing.

And as he towered over her, as the wafting steam from the heated pool surrounded the, she felt herself grow damp.

“I disagree,” she added, desperately needing to hold on to anger. “I asked you to do something outside of your usual services. For that, you should be paid.”

“Services?” He spat out the word as if it tasted foul in that beautiful mouth. “That’s what you think that was?” His breath washed over her, the fury all but pouring from his massive shoulders. “Has it ever entered your privileged beautiful head that some things you shouldn’t have to pay for? That some things, like touching you, kissing you, making you shiver and moan is something I actually wanted do?”

Her heart pounded in his throat. And whatever possessed her to start this conversation in the first place somehow seized control over her tongue, because right out in the open, right in that steaming crimson air, Rey whispered, “Prove it.”

***

“What...” Kylo couldn’t believe his own ears. He must have hallucinated what she just said. “Excuse me?”

Her gaze remeained steady on his. Serious. Powerful. A princess who needed to be taken down a notch or three.

“You said you’ve been wanting to touch me? Kiss me? Prove it.”

“You aren’t suited for these types of games.” He kept his voice low. Steady. Any second now, she would probably laugh at him and walk away, back to her glittering life in a guilded cage.

“I don’t play games, Mr. Ren,” she said, and crossed those silk clad arms across her body. A power move or to shield herself? “I also don’t say things that I don’t mean.”

Testing her, he leaned closer, just where he scented strawberries.

“Ask me.”

“What?” She didn’t shrink back, he had to give her credit. But even in this strange eerie glow, he could seefine tremors on her limbs. How far would she go, he wondered? And which of the two, Kira the Heiress or Rey the Sweetheart stood before him?

“Ask me, “he repeated. “Say the words, and I’ll give you anything you want.” He waited for a slap that didn’t come.

Instead she lifted up that stubborn little chin and whispered, “Kiss me.”

Was she really trying to beat him at this game?

“You’re sure,” he whispered an inch from her lips, a silken threat.

A nod.

That was her answer.

One single, tiny nod.

Slow, achingly slow, beause despite his anger, despite the disappointment, despite the fury of discovering the money, he knew her, damnit. He understood the insecurities under the false bravado, the heart that beat under the hardening shell.

So he slanted his mouth over hers, gently caressing her lips with his own, tender, feather light, reveling in the sweet taste of her, the warm sweet texture of her lips.

He kept his hands fisted firmly in his pockets, even as blood rushed down from his head.

When he pulled back, he saw her watching him. And waiting. That same tiny frown marred her perfect features. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, and god help him, he growled, and no doubt scared the shit out of her.

Except she stood her ground. Lips parted. Eyes soft.

And because he was a shit, because a part of him wanted to scare her if only to make it easier for both of them, he laid his palm over her throat and gently led her backwards.

When her back met the wall—the pool house—his hand still cradling that beautiful slim neck, he put his mouth on her again.

Not slow this time.

Crushing, devouring. Trying to scare her a bit? Maybe. Proably. Maybe.

Trying to slack this need, this raging hunger for her, just once before she disappeared from his life?

Hell yes.

And when she whimpered into his mouth, when she wordlessly asked to explore him too, Kylo was... lost.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he kissed her.

“I need you,” she whispered in that sweet breathless voice, and even as he trailed kisses over that slender neck, coaxing shivers from her, he set her on her feet again.

“You better get back to your guests.”

Instead, her gaze held his, dreamy yet steady.

“I need you Kylo.”

A part of him nearly blurted out his real name.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Princess.” And yet he couldn’t bring himself to move away. Instead, he murmured the words in ear. “You need to be fucked on a bed with rose petals. With silk sheets and sweet words. I’m not the one to give that to you.”

And though it gutted him, he tried to move away.

Except a small insistent hand gripped the lapel of his jacket.

“I don’t need rose petals.” Gods, was she shaking? “I just need you.”

“Princess...” His voice came out in a groan.

“Don’t call me that.” And in the crimson light, her gaze went warrior bright. “What happened to ‘ask me’? Or are you nothing but a tease?”

***

She didn’t know where this boldness came from. Certainly this was completely out of character, not only with the possibility of being caught but allowing anyone to be this close, to kiss her.

Then again...Kylo.

His lips... gods... his lips on her skin, his mouth soft and scalding. He pressed kisses on her neck, skin that already knew the texture of his hands, and now, she yearned for more.

With clumsy motions, Rey pulled at the transparent shawl over her shoulders, wordlessly asking him to taste.

Lips on her skin.

How.... erotic.

“Is it too much,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the base of her throat, slow drugging kisses that left her breathless. “We can stop any time you need to.”

Because she no breath to spare, Rey only shook her head.

_Then..._

Air.

Cool air caressed her exposed skin and Rey opened her eyes to see him towering over her with a sliver of space between them.

He’d done that before too.

He’d stopped so many times those first weeks when it had been too much, silently giving her room, wordlessly giving her air. To catch her breath.

To feel.

Waiting for that nod of confirmation. Always watching to ensure she was okay.

Just like before, Rey nodded. Unlike before, she reached out to him. And though she couldn’t wrap her arms around him—despite the murderous heels she barely reached his shoulders—she let herself be held against that massive chest.

His heartbeat raged against her ear.

“You have no idea,” he murmured against her hair. “You have no fucking clue how long I wanted this.”

She had no idea when in the past year his touch transformed from tolerable to healing, from impersonal to arousing. She dreamt of him a lot longer then she craved his hands on her.

“I need you,” she murmured and tugged his lapel down her level, tasting his jaw, his throat.

Large hands closed on her bared shoulders, his fingers firm over her skin.

“Okay?”

Another nod.

Then she was hoisted up, and the sheer surprise had her wrapping her arms around his neck, the sensation of being carried another treasure to be remembered later.

“Gods, you’re sweet,” he murmured, and flushing she buried her face in the curve of his neck, running her lips over his skin.

Leather.

Musk.

Man.

They were moving—she didn’t care where. Then a soft squeak—followed by darkness.

Out of sight.

“Pool house,” he murmured and pressed her back against the door he’d just kicked shut.

His mouth left her lips to press kisses into her neck, over the tendon she wanted him to bite if she knew how to ask.

As if reading her mind, he scraped his teeth just there.

Already trembling, already shaking around the emptiness inside her, remembering the beautiful shimmer of the orgasm he gave her, Rey pressed her pelvis against him.

“What do you want Princess?”

“I want you to stop calling me that.” But she couldn’t bring herself to put heat into those words. Instead she angled her head to give him better access to her neck.

A chuckle against her ear reverberated down to her core. “Doesn’t change the fact that you want to be worshipped. And you should be.” He dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat. “You should be worshipped.”

And since she was so far gone, somehow she blurted, “Then get down to your knees.”

A dark dangerous laugh against her throat. “As you wish, princess.”

And Kylo knelt before her, the lights from the window painting his face in crimson shadows.

Touch.

Hands.

Palms closing briefly on her calves, then air on her skin above the stockings, as he drew up her dress and bared her thighs.

“You’ll be the death of me” she heard just as back of herhead hit the door. Soft lush lips on her skin, his mouth closer, hot... Nearly there.

His hair slid like silk between the fabric of her gloves.

“Tell me when it’s too much,” he murmured, and because her knees nearly buckled at the feel of his breath there, she reached down and gripped his hand, interlocking their fingers and crushing the tulle of her dress as both of them held the fabric up.

His free hand pushed the silk covering her mons aside.

A kiss. Just above where she needed, just above where he brought her to that first peak. Was it only a day ago? She shuddered at the memory and was yanked back to present when he pressed that patrician nose between her thighs and took a long appreciative inhale. “You smell like strawberries.” That voice nearly sent her skin on fire. Then his gaze met hers, and gods, that grin. “Have you been stealing my oil?”

“You’re the one,” she couldn’t get a sentence out without gasping for breath, “You’re the one who keeps forgetting it.”

“Oh, I’m not forgetting.” That dark chuckle against the apex of her thighs nearly had her climaxing right there. Then, gods!

His mouth.

He put his mouth on her.

_Right there._

Slow.

Gentle.

Just a feather light brush of lips against her folds, sparks of sensation dancing from her center over every limb, every nerve ending.

“Okay?” he said just as Rey realized she moaned.

More time.

A long drawn movement, those dark eyes watching for consent, his hands on hers, a warm protective anchor should she shatter.

With the sensations settling in her brain, the shivers and the longing once again familiar, she nodded. Squeezed his fingers.

This time his kissed her deeper, gently probing between her folds and Rey forgot everything, forgot where she was, forgot her name, forgot to breathe.

She... _felt_.

“Too much?” He murmured right against her, and beause she had no words, she simply canted her hips toward him and squeezed his fingers hard.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

He always knew exactly what she wanted, exactly how to touch her.

She was long past control, past embarrassment. Untangling her hands from his, she reached down to spread herself open, her quiet gasps the only sound in the dark.

“Do you have,” he said in a voice that sounded like a velvet caress over her limbs, “any idea what you do to me?”

And before she could answer, pleasure spiraled through as he once again laved her folds, circling her entrance, nibbling, lightly sucking,and then.....

Then..

One long glorious finger. A slow press.

He stroked inside her and caressed her clit and Rey was gone, completely gone, shattering into tiny sharp glass pieces.

He stayed with her while she caught her breath. He pressed sweet kisses to her belly, wrapping strong arms around her torso when she shook.

And with her hands over his hair, she realized she hadn’t touched him, yet, not with her bare hands.

“May I...” With rough slides of silk against her arms, she pushed down the gloves. “May I touch you as well?”

She had the pleasure of watching his eyes go wide in the crimson shadows. “Rey, you don’t have to...”

“You did say anything I wanted.”

“If you asked.” He rose to loom above her once again, no doubt testing her resolve.

“I did just ask,” she murmured, and when he nodded, she fumbled with his zipper and pressed against him with her bare hand.

***

He had to be dreaming.

Dreaming, Kylo told herself as she freed him from the confines of his trousers and his cock all but wept into her hand.

Maybe the Falcon finally crapped out in a fiery crash and this had to be heaven. Because things like these? They didn’t happen. Not to him.

She wanted to touch him. Not because of what he was. Not because of his status or his name.

She wanted to touch.. him. Kylo Ren.

She must’ve said something because those luminous eyes looked at him in question. Right, she’s never done anything like this—and the thought of being the first nearly had him spilling.

“Kylo?” Soft, breathless words, her usual mask of confidence tossed aside to show him the real her, the wonder of her. “I don’t know what—“

“Just touch me,” he murmured and because for the first time in his fucking life, he was at a loss of words, he placed his paw over that slender hand and slow—because he was embarrassingly close to coming—showed her how to stroke him.

He must’ve clutched her hard against his side because she made a little noise and wiggled. “I want to kiss you.”

Anything. He would give her anything she wanted.

He haunched down to touch his lips to hers, except she shook her head. “I want to kiss you.. there.” And those sweet fingers closed over on him for emphases, and may his eyes roll back into his head.

“Rey, you don’t have to—“

“I’m asking.”

“Princess,” he managed through gritted teeth, holding back an eruption, “That’s not how asking works.”

And then her hot breath washed over his length. “Maybe I please,” A slow pump of those beautiful naked fingers, “kiss you there?”

He could only nod, his body tightening, his lids wanting to close and some inhuman strength keeping them open.

He wouldn’t miss a single moment, watching her slide that beautiful mouth over his straining cock.

At least he had the presence of mind to pull her to her feet before spilling over both their hands, his groan rediculously loud in his ears.

For a moment, nothing existed. Then..

Christ.

_Christ!_

He came right in her hand. And probably her dress. And while he tried to engage his brain into some semblance of thoughts and I’m-sorrys, Rey calmly brought her finger to her lips.

He saw a dart of that pink tongue, and despite several times jerking off since the torture of yesterday, despite this mind-blistering orgasm, he felt himself tightening up again.

“Rey...”

His brain slowly caught up. He needed to tell her. He should’ve told her everything before all this...

“Salty,” she murmured, a slight smile on her lips and for the third time in... has it been only thirty minutes? Completely fried his brain when she calmly reached for one of those silk gloves she has discarded and started to wipe her hand.

“Let me,” he murmured, “please.” The myriad of emotions couldn’t make the connection from his brain to his mouth.

So Kylo just cleaned her hand in silence, and since the glove was already soiled, himself.

Then something beeped, so quietly he thought he had imagined the sound, but she tilted her head, and...

Lifted up her finger, that same finger she just held against her lip, in an unmistakable gesture of “hold on.” With a quick gesture, she pushed back her hair to reveal a tiny earpiece. She’d been wearing one the whole fucking time. The whole time, while he was foolishly ready to give her _everything_ , she kept her eyes on the end game.

“Yes? Yes of course. Thank you.” Another beep as she must’ve hung up. “It’s almost midnight.” And fuck him, those luminous eyes were still soft. She had the fucking gall to cup his cheek, her touch still sweet, still gentle. “I wish it could be you,” she murmured and might as well have stabbed him in the chest.

All this..

He’d been ready to tell her. Everything.

He came here to ensure that she was all right, to use his name and status if he had to. To rescue her, for fucks sake.

KiraRey Palpatine didn’t need rescue.

She had let Kylo Ren touch her, kiss her. And in the end, she wouldn’t choose him. Just his status.

She must’ve realized something had changed, because she looked up at him with a question. Same lumenous eyes. Goddess to peasant.

“Kylo?”

He almost growled his name. Just to watch her mouth drop open, just to twist the knife. Instead he pried open the door, and bare feet on gravel, walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments and kudos! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the slipper fit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to AuroraReylo for the beta!

“Kylo?”

What just happened? Had she insulted him somehow? Scared him because he thought that she was serious about her yearning for him?

“Kylo!” She could reassure him. Heels on already aching feet clicked on the pavement as she rushed out of the pool house, feeling rediculous chasing him in the dark.

_You’re KiraRey Palpatine._

She didn’t care.

“Kylo, please wait.” She caught up to him by the pool, as he bent over to tug on his socks.

“They’re waiting for you Princess.” He spat out that word, as if somehow that was an insult. Did he think her crass? Or did he fear she developed feelings for him with those foolish words that had slipped out?

“Kylo, I think you misunderstood—“

He looked as if couldn’t stand her. “Yeah. I’m the one who misunderstood.” She took a step toward him and nearly sent him stumbling into the pool when he jerked backward.

“Don’t. Just fucking don’t.” He shook his head, disgust in those dark eyes, and walked away, his shoulders tall and proud. And with the sudden pain, the sudden loss, the shortness of breath watching him leave, Rey took several steps after him when voices sent her hiding in the shadows.

Everything inside her screamed for her to go after Kylo. To make him understand. And yet...

“I paid Sheev too much money for you to leave right now.”

“I told you, I didn’t want this.” Armitage, his usual bored voice full of emotion.“I’m in love with Rose, and I’m not putting up with this shit anymore.”

“In love?” A grumbling laugh. “Fine, you’re in love. You’re willing to sacrifice your fortune, your inheritance for a nobody?”

“Her name. Is. Rose.” The sudden fury had Rey blinking. “She’s a mechanical engineer and she’s brilliant. And yes. I would be wiling to sacrifice everything for her.”

“Where are you going? What do you think you’re—OH!”

A furious male scream was followed by a splash. She ran out to see Brendol sputtering in the red colored waters, and for a quick moment she thought he was drowning in blood.

With his toupe sliding sideways over his head, he reached out to the ledge, and Hux, after a momentary pause, held out a hand and hauled his father out.

“Apparently we both are leaving?”

“Absolutely disgraceful.” And as Brendoll flustered, Rey smiled brilliantly at Hux. “What happened?”

She watched the face of her long time friend, a friend who just ransformed in front of her very eyes. A friend who seemed like an entire weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders.

“A shoe! Some idiot left his shoe here! I tripped...”

“Oh. Dear.” And she giggled as more spectators stepped from the garden, no doubt attracted by the noise. “We better get Mr. Hux Sr a towel. And see if we can procure his some dry clothes? I”ll take that,” she murmured to the waitstaff puzzling over a giant black male dress shoe with a crimson sole. “We should return that to the rightful owner”.

Rey knew what she had to do.

She simply didn’t know if she had the strength to do it.

***

He couldn’t remember the last time he drank. Then again, since the Falcon all but fell apart on him on the freeway, he figured Karma really was out to get him.

“I’m not fucking hung over,” he muttered when a glass of water and two clear liqui-gels appeared in his blurry vision.

“Could’ve fooled me.” came back the cheerful response. “You swear more in the States.”

“Tell Mother.”

“She’s been known to F-bomb in Correlian from time to time.” And his brother plopped onto the side of the bed. Had Kylo been indeed hung over, that would’ve sent waves of pain into his pounding head.

But he wasn’t hung over. A part of him wished that he were, just so he could have an excuse to just wallow in bed.

“So... Kylo. Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“It’s all right, you talked plenty last night. Gotta admit, your face after cheap whiskey...I can’t wait to tell Dad.” Poe shook his head and snorted, the sound a hammer on the nails that had become his eyes. “Let me see if I remember. There’s a girl. A princess? Or did she call you Princess? You weren’t clear on that front.”

He didn’t need the pills, but he did down the water, the cotton taste out of his mouth washed away.

Another glass, this time with Apple Cider Vinder and honey—their father’s recipe—was waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom.

“I’m not hung over.”

“Then what are you?”

_Heartbroken._

A snort. “They do say Solos have a flair for the dramatics.”

Kylo didn’t realize he said the word out loud. Since he had, he figured what the hell and took the glass.

He gulped down half the liquid, Han’s potion bitter and tart and sweet, reminding him of his mother’s furious whispers mixed with laughter the morning after his twentieth birthday.

“Thank you.” His voice tasted like gravel in his throat.

“You did the same for me when Finn left me.”

“Which time?”

“Pick one. And don’t you dare bring that up for your Best Man toast.” Poe straddled a chair across from him. “Since you aren’t hung over, spill your guts.”

“I think....”Kylo finished the remains. “I think I figured out that no matter how far I run, it always catches up.”

“It being what?”

“You know. The past.”

“Isn’t this where you get all dramatic? Let the past die, or things along those lines?”

Kylo just shrugged.

“Talk real this time.”

“Fine.” And because his stomach protested at the mere thought of food, he didn’t snag the mini muffin Poe had waiting. “I met someone.”

“That’s great!”

“She’s getting married.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He pushed a hand through the tangled mess that had become his hair. The tabloids should really see Prince Solo now. “KiraRey Palpatine.”

Poe’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s why you needed Mom to forward you the invite?”

“Yeah.

“So what’s the problem? Wouldn’t she be thrilled?”

“It’s the same bullshit, Poe.”

“She knows?”

“Well.. She has no idea. “

“Aaaand... you you’re afraid what’ gonna happen when you surprise her with this crap? Newsflash, everyone screams when told their lover is a prince. Ask Finn. Seriously, go ask him.”

Kylo let go of his own misery long enough to study the goofy grin on Poe’s beaming face. What would it be like? To be loved for yourself? To love someone in the open? Without obligations or titles or family legacies getting in the way?

Hangover.

Heartache.

Their father had the same remedy for both, the arguments—and cringeworthy making up—the source of pride for Naboo gossip papers.

Silent, Poe rose and mixed another glass, pouring in vinegar and honey, sliding it over the little bar. Nothing like the kitchens they grew up with. Hell, they were not even allowed in the kitchens, Threepio risking a heart attack at the loss of decorum.

But this? This place with not matched designer knockoff furniture and silverware that wasn’t silver.. it was his.

Earned.

“She... wants my body.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m so not kriffing kidding.” He got up to pace. The sunshine streaming through the window hurt.

“She has to marry someone on her level. Whatever she may want with me—,“

Another snort at that.

“After Bazine.. you know I can’t.”

“So... she wants you...” Poe seemed to forget the only body part.

“She wants to marry on her level.....You’re obviously smitten. Explain to me why that’s a problem?”

“Because, damnit!” He slammed the glass onto the table, hard enough for it to crack. Poe, used to worse displays, didn’t even blink an eye. “She wouldn’t choose me. She wouldn’t choose someone like Kylo Ren.”

“Should I be concerned you’re talking about your alter ego in third person?”

“You’re.... You’re right.” He simply needed time. Fuck, maybe he could just bury his head in the sand and hole up here for a while. Maybe even study.“Look, thank you. For everything. Picking me up, letting me talk all over you.”

Poe took a bite of muffin. “You cried over my new coat.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“You still owe me.”

“Fine.” At this point, Kylo just wanted peace.

“And since you owe me, I need you to check out this video.”

“Jesus, I’m not in the mood for cats.”

“Anyone tell you you’re an ass?” Poe plucked his tablet from counter, his fingers dancing on the screen. “Shut up and watch.”

Fine he would watch. Whatever idiotic cuteness Finn had sent him, Kylo would watch and then move on with his damned life...

“I know, breaking our own rules last minute. But I’m hoping this will make things much more interesting.” Her voice, that cultured tone with just a hint of nerves scraped over what was left of his soul.

“I don’t need—“

“Shut up listen.”

“When my grandfather asked me to participate in this endeavor, I agreed. But I always strived do things my way, find something unique in every situation and turn it on it’s head.”

He watched her face the cameras, the clip obviously from last night. Her face glowed, her eyes calm to anyone who didn’t know her. A flush of color on her cheeks, from nerves or from her orgasm earlier, the shawl on her arms once again, the ice blue of her gown perfect.

Always perfect.

Always put together.

He hoped her husband would be perfect too.

“Instead of copying the Bachelor, I thought we could play gender reversed Cinderella. Here the slipper—this remarkably large shoe. Beautiful really, nothing like I’ve seen before. With crimson soles.”

Not believing his eyes, not even feeling Poe’s hand gripping his shoulder, Ben leaned closer to the screen where the camera zoomed on a shiny leather boat that had to be custom made to fit him. And those slender fingers might as well have caressed him before turning the thing on it’s side to show the sole.

Alderaan Red.

“The man who fits into this shoe will be my suitor.” She smiled at the camera, but under that carefully made up face, he saw a sliver of both hope and nerves. “And I certainly hope somebody out there will fit.”

Shocked, speechless, he could only replay the clip, watching her over and over, herdark hair silky on her shoulders, as if he didn’t run his hands over it. Except her hands were bare... and he still had her glove.

Like a maniac he sprinted for his jacket, the one he’d dropped by the front door, Poe on his heels.

“Wait!”

“I need to get this washed.” He held her silk glove in his hand, the fabric .. well.. soiled. “How do you—“

“I’m not touching _that_. And if you think you’re giving that to her, you’re mistaken.”

The doorbell rang and filled him with true horror. “Did you call... Mom?”

“Even I wouldn’t do that. Dad had to generate some sort of minor crisis that would keep her in the country. Luke isn’t thrilled.” Now, there’s news.

Calmer, if only slightly, Kylo opened the front door to let in a tiny woman carrying a very large, very long, garment bag.

“Lady Kanata?”

“Let’s get the Princess ready for the ball.” She snorted at her own joke, a woman who at one point diapered both his and Poe’s bottoms.

The bands around his chest finally let up. “If she’s the fairy godmother, does that make you the good step-brother?“

Poe looked up from where he was texting on his phone. “You’ve watched Ever After way too many times.”

***

Rey hoped like hell that her gamble paid off. Maybe he’d see the clip and understand. Or maybe, he truly wanted nothing from her, and the entire nation would see her humiliated.

Either way, network gold, and the investors were besides themselves with ratings. Either way, her suitcase was already packed, snd since she’d always been a scrimper, she could survive on savings if not pride.

Pride hurt the one person she wanted to be with.

So Rey sat on the large chair that looked like a throne, the back and canopy adored with with crystals and white draping pretensions velvet.

Like a Princess, waiting for the right suitor to come along. And if he didn’t show up, she’d shoulder the humiliation the same way she shouldered everything else. With dignity and Haagen Daz. Alone.

They came in droves of course, but none as tall, and nobody as beautiful. Since the video went viral, every eligible bachelor lined up at the doors, hoping the shoe would fit.

Some actually came close, sending her heartbeat speeding up in dread. But she still smiled, gracious and perfect, calm and polite. Perfect Palpatine Princess.

She’d change her name. Johnson was good. KiraRey Johnson. Or just Rey.

She couldn’t wait to get out of her here and start a new life as herself. Hopefully with Kylo. And if he didn’t show up, she knew that she could rely on herself.

Nerves and anticipation beat inside her veins, her white silk pantsuit stifling in it’s perfection.

She wanted jeans. A flannel shirt so she’d never be cold. And Kylo’s arms around her.

Since every popular event needed an MC,Mayor Calrisian’s rich vocals filled the air. “Our next hopeful is someone I happen to know quite well. His father and I used to be quite the pair back in our misspent youth.” This drew chuckles from the crowd, Lando’s shenanigans the stuff of legend in the city. “Here he is, an actual Royal Prince, Benjamin Bail Organa Skywalker Solo!”

Excitement tittered through the crowd. Her grandfather leaned forward in his seat.

Rey kept a firm and polite smile even as irritation rippled on her skin. Of course, that goddamned prince, once again here to mess up her plans. She should’ve found him last night and told him not to bother showing up.

Well, he could stick his tiny foot into that giant shoe and hopefully not cry to mummy when he wouldn’t fill out the crystal (or in this case leather) slipper.

Some sort of commotion behind the cameras caught her attention, the press of crowds and paps no doubt eager to see the closest thing to real royalty.

A tall one, she would give him that—she could see his dark head above the crowd. And then turned and...

No.

This wasn’t possible. Maybe she was still dreaming, just like she dreamt of being in his arms the nights after the massages, waking up in an empty bed, hungry, unsatisfied.

This dream? Beautiful. The man walking toward her with the self assurance of a Prince —power and elegance, the guarded features stern with just a hint of softness. Beautiful and strong. With perfect hair. Perfectly cut suit accenting that broad frame and muscled shoulders.

And yet, Rey preferred the other look, the raw, almost brutal masculinity, the flannel shirts and combat boots.

She still couldn’t comprehend, her brain simply shorting out at the sight of him coming closer.

“Well, Granddaughter”, A pleased hiss next to her. “I underestimated you. Forgive me.”

This morning, Palpatine disowned her. Only the perception of the board allowed her to tender her resignation herself rather then have him forcibly remove her out of his sight.

He thought that man coming toward them with the poise of royalty was really the prince? Of course he did since nobody actually had met him, Kylo playing a rediculously, possibly dangerous, charade.

All because of her stupid prank, because she needed to make a gesture instead of talking to him like a real person.

“Let me,” she murmured to Mitaka. And before the man had a chance to protest, she stood and tried to keep her legendary poise as she met the fake prince at the top of the stairs leading up to her.

“I want you,” she murmured, and with him standing on second to last step, their heights matched eye to eye. Quiet,so only he would hear in the sea of flashbulbs, she said “You don’t need to pretend. I’ll tell them the truth, that you did it for me. Okay?”

The smile? Beautiful, with a small hint of wistful. “No more pretending.”

He must’ve spent a fortune on his hair. She hoped he didn’t blow his savings just for this.

“Trust me?”

And out everything, the uncertainly about the future, the excited whispers, that was the one thing Rey had been sure of. “With my life.”

“Then take my hand.”

Large palm, long fingers. She loved those hands on her, the way he was so gentle yet so strong. The way those hands always knew exactly how to touch her, heal her. Pleasure her.

So she took off the gloves - white silk this time. And clasped his palm with hers.

Sparks. Heat. The flashbulbs around them grew brighter, the staccato rhythm of the shutters echoed in her pulse.

And this gorgeous beautiful man who easily could’ve passed for a prince, still gently holding her hand in his, went down on one knee.

“KiraRey Palpatine,” he said, this time his voice loud enough to be picked up by straining ears and microphones. “My name is Benjamin Bail Organa Skywalker Solo, heir to the the royal houses of Alderaan and Naboo. Although you know me by another name.” The dark eyes looking up a her plead with her to understand, and though Rey squeezed his hand, her heartbeat probably drumming against his fingers, she still couldn’t correlate what happened.

“If you’d let me, I would love to be your suitor.” And then those beautiful lips curled into a smile. “If the shoe fits, of course.”

Mitaka chose that moment to approach her with the velvet pillow. And as she took the shoe from it, she sank onto the knee opposite his. Two opposites, in white and black. The Prince and the Nobody now that she was disowned.

“Rey don’t-“

“I need your foot. Your Highness.”

And since she put his shoe at the top of the stairs, he had no choice but to kick off his own shoe and let the slipper fit.

“It fits,” she said, like a big idiot, because of course it did. And relief poured through her as he stood up, as he lifted her up as well, towering over her again, their bodies flush, connected.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

She searched his eyes. “I don’t want a prince.”

Then he was kissing her, his lips claiming hers as the crowd whistled and clapped, his frame blocking out the world and keeping her safe in the cocoon of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments and kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to AutoraReylo for the beta!

They managed to avoid the press.

They managed to avoid the flood of people, happy wishers who pointed their phones at them and, in one over-enthusiastic case, threw glitter which they still couldn’t brush off.

But Rey had laughed, and that was all he needed to be happy.

They managed to avoid the tail of cars and flashing cameras and Palpatine’s glittering smiles. Kylo still wished he could plow a fist into the man’s perfect white teeth.

They couldn’t avoid his parents. Apparently the minor crisis at Naboo stood no chance against Leia’s intuition. Neither did Han’s resolve against her wrath.

Which was how both his parents greeted them when Ben carried Rey (despite those laughing breathless protests) over the threshold of the economy hotel room.

The royal couple, heirs to Alderran and Naboo crowns, looked ridiculously out of place and yet comfortable reclining on mass-produced worn armchairs.

“OHMYGOD, Kylo, put me down.”

And since he nearly dropped her in shock, he set her gently on her bare feet and kept a steady hand around her waist.

“Kylo, huh?” For once, his father’s grin didn’t annoy the kriff out of him. “You know, you got the flair for the dramatics from my side.”

“Quiet, you nerf herder.” And Leia, heir-apparent to the queen of Alderaan and Naboo, smoothed her perfectly tailored pantsuit as she stood up. “KiraRey, honey. I don’t know if you remember me, but it’s so lovely,” she emphasized that last word, “to see you.”

Rey, looking like she’s been struck speechless, tensed next to him, and Kylo got a sneaking suspicion only the hand he kept around her waist kept her from bolting out the door.

Or curtsying.

“Just Rey, your—“

“Please dear, call me Leia.” And the woman who was always described as a force of nature, moved in to envelop them both into a fierce hug. “That was quite a show.”

“You know, Kid,” his father clapped him on the shoulder then gave Rey a wink that had her immediately relaxing, “Kylo Ren seems to have expensive taste in shoes.”

And Rey, always poised, always composed Rey, covered her face and started shaking. For a moment, an endless terrifying moment, he thought she might be crying. That the stress of the day finally caught up with her, or worse, she finally processed exactly what she’d done and gods help him, regretted everything.

Except, under his parents’ concerned glances, she slapped her hand over his shoulder with a loud smack. “I should’ve known.” And he realized instead of tears, she was laughing. Howling really, with laughter, the sound gold and honey and pure sunshine. “How didn’t I know? The red. _Alderaan_ red!”

“I”m sorry,” she sniffed, and pressed her hand against her mouth, clearly trying to regain composure. “I think....” She stifled another giggle and he thought he’d never seen anyone so adorable. “I think I might still be in shock.”

“Come on Your Worshipfulness,” his father said, clearly biting his cheeks to keep from cracking up himself. “These two probably need to talk. Let’s take the Falcon out and see how soon Lando sends a security detail to shadow us.”

With Rey still wiping her face, Kylo finally remembered. “Uh, about that...”

“What have you done to my car?”

“That car is an old clunker—“

“Kid, you were conceived in that car. Show respect.”

“Come on.” This from Leia, whose smile lit up the room. “Call me tomrorow. And Rey,” she added and squeezed them both into another hug. “I hope to see much more of you.”

Rey was still chuckling when his parents left, Han’s murmured “you did good, Kid,” making her once again dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run them off.” She murmured when she caught her breath. “Just.. everything. You.. Them..” And she started giggling again, the sound so sweet and clear, he swore to himself he would spend the rest of his life making her laugh.

And then she was kissing him, somehow having maneuvered him against a wall and tugging him down low enough so she could reach his lips and he was lost in her... just lost in the sweet honeyed taste of her, the feel of her fingers in his hair.

“Kylo,” she murmured against his lips, and then pulled away, a frown on that beautiful face. “Or do you prefer Ben?”

“I honestly don’t care.”

At this point, the only thing he cared about was touching her.

“Take me to bed,” she said, simple and unafraid and because he was terrified she was some sort of a hallucination, he scooped her up.

“Princess,” he managed between hot open mouthed kisses driving him wild, “we need to take this slow”

“What makes you think,” she said and nearly had him exploding from her teeth closing on his bottom lip before she continued, “that I don’t have a lovely collection of monster dildos to ensure we don’t need to take it slow?”

And then more giggling even as all the remaining blood in his head left him.“I didn’t pack them! Whoever has to clean out my place—”

He literally dropped her on the bed.

**

She should’ve been freaking out.

KiraRey Palpatine probably would’ve been freaking out.

But Rey Nobody Johnson had a gorgeous man pressing her into the mattress, his weight comforting and erotic, his erection pressing against her very core.

“Monster dildos?” He growled against her neck, and this time, she didn’t laugh because judging by the hardness against her, there was a distinct possibility the monster dildo wouldn’t be enough.

She nodded instead and looped her arms around his massive torso. And realized they both still wore the tourist tshirts provided by his laughing brother who waited for them in the gateway car. “Your chariot Princess” he had snorted and she had realized he was speaking to Ben.

Kylo.

The only person in the world that got her. Healed her. Knew exactly how.... Gods, she was horrible. “I never asked what you wanted.” And she searched his gaze, guilt seeping through. “In all this, I never asked. I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. “What do you want?”

The subtle push of his hips against hers had sparks of pleasure showering her skin. “It’s it pretty obvious?”

“I mean it.” But she said that quietly now. “All these months—“

“You know that doesn’t count.”

“I know. But I’m asking now. What do you want?”

“I want to touch you.”

She frowned at that. “And you’re doing what instead?”

“No Rey. I want to...” He broke off.

“Just tell me,” she whispered.

“I want to touch you,” he whispered against her lips, his eyes going solemn. “All of you. Well you let me?”

Her throat dry, she nodded.

“Okay. Then get up off the bed.”

Uncertain now, she did as he requested.

“Will you... “ He cleared his throat. “Will you let me see you?”

He’d seen her mostly naked. For a year. And yet this seemed nerve wrecking somehow, her peeling the oversized TShirt off her body, then stepping out of those ridiculous white slacks, her panties with them. And under that darkening hungry gaze, with fumbling fingers she took off her bralette and stood bare.

Waiting.

Letting the air and his gaze caress her skin.

Then a tentative fingertip slid over her lips, rubbing over their fullness. “I’ve been dreaming of this.”

He still wore clothes, Rey realized as he sat down on the bed and drew her between his knees. He still wore clothes and she was standing naked, and somehow, that was a fantasy in itself.

Then a single fingertip trailed down the line of her throat and her eyes fluttered closed.

“Do you have any idea,” his voice evenloped her, cherished her. Destroyed her. “Any fucking idea how much I wanted to touch you when you were lying on my table?”

A slow shivering scalding path between her breasts.

“How many times I had to jerk off before coming to your place just to maintain some semblance of professionalism?” Lower, over her sternum, down to her stomach. She jumped when that fingertip dipped into her belly button and continued the path down.

“Do you know how you drove me crazy with your little moans and sighs?”

And then his mouth is on her skin, pressing a kiss over her shoulder, ghosting over her biceps. “Okay?”

“Kylo,” she breathed. “Let’s just assume from now on, it’s okay.” Then, “I’m on the pill. And... I haven’t been... you know.”

“I haven’t either since I met you.”

And with the delicious rush of sensation, she slid her fingers into the silk of that dark hair and guided his lips to her breast.

A groan, she wasn’t sure if the sound came from her or him, but that didn’t really matter. Lips, feather light over her nipple, a teasing tentative caress.

She would’ve buckled except his hands now gripped her hips.

A ... lick? Did he just..

Gods.

He did.

Then the other one, repeating that same amazing delirious sensation. She rarely touched herself there, never thought them sensitive enough. With Kylo’s mouth teasing her to a fever pitch, the sensations spiraled down to her belly, down to her very core.

And because she needed him, needed to fill the emptiness inside her, gripped his hand and brought it down between her thighs. “Kylo, I need—“

But he already knew. Beautiful long fingers caressed her folds, his touch as light as the lips on her breaths.

“Gods you’re..’ His breath ghosted over a pebbled nipple. “You’re beautiful.”

With strength that surprised them both, Rey pushed him back, toppled him on the bed, with fumbling hands tore his clothes off. Straddled his hips, heady with the power of want from that dark gaze that watched her every breath.

And with their bodies aligned, with a whisper of air between them, she licked her lips and whispered, “Is this okay?”

The growl.

She would’ve laughed if he didn’t surge up, closed that last empty space between them. And stilled, watching her, always watching her for signs of discomfort, for any pain.

“I told you. Monster dildos,” she murmured against his mouth, flattened her palms over his chest and moved.

Or rather, he moved her, hands in a bruising grip over her hips, guiding her up, then letting her body glide down, meeting her thrusts, seating her onto himself. Those dark eyes never left hers, watching every sigh, every caught breath. Each thrust took her higher, took him deeper, and when he slid his hand where their bodies were joined, found the place that made her keen, she just was... lost.

He wasn’t far behind, surging into her with a grunt that sounded like her name, then pressing kisses on her mouth, her eyes, her forehead.

“I swear, next time there will be roses and silk sheets.”

She lay over his chest and sighed. “If you’re there, I don’t care.”

“Princess—“

“Your highness.”

“Fuck.”

“Fair is fair.”

His hands rubbed soothing circles on her rear, kneading her muscles.

“I don’t know what’s ahead.” Blissed out, she closed her eyes and heard his steady heartbeat. “I’m okay with that. But I’d love to figure that out together.”

He brushed her hair off her face, those dark eyes soft and solemn. “You’re not alone, Rey.”

She pressed a kiss into his skin. “Neither are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my fluffiest fic to date, and I really enjoyed putting the fairy tale onto it’s head.  
> Thank you for reading and commenting - I hope you enjoyed this smutty conclusion!

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear what you all think!


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